our fortunes?" Nyoda
consented and the girls scoured the woods for hanging moss to
decorate the cave, and for pine cones to build a charmed fire.
They were busily transforming the bare rocks into a green
tapestried chamber, when Sahwah came up, crying as if her heart
would break, carrying in her arms a dead wild duck.

"What's the matter?" asked Nyoda in alarm.

"I shot it!" sobbed Sahwah.

"But that's nothing to cry about," said Nyoda, "don't you know
that wild ducks are game birds? It's a bit out of season and you
mustn't shoot any more, but I must congratulate you on your aim."
Sahwah was a living riddle to her. Fearless as an Indian in the
woods and possessing the skill with a rifle to bring down a bird
on the wing, she was so tender-hearted that she could not bear to
think of having killed any living thing! Nyoda bade her cheer up
and pluck the fowl for roasting, and the girls danced for joy at
the thought of the feast in store for them. They left off
decorating the cave and went to constructing a stone oven in
which to cook the bird. It was a bit scorched on the outside
when done, but the meat was so tender it nearly fell apart.
Sahwah, who at first wanted to bury the martyr with full honors,
changed her mind when she smelled the savory odor and enjoyed the
dinner as much as the rest.

When night fell the girls repaired one by one to the cave in the
woods to have their fortunes read. Nyoda, clad in her gray
bathrobe in lieu of a witch's cloak, trimmed with streamers of
ground pine, and with a high-peaked hat with a pine tassel on
top, was a weird figure as she bent over the low fire stirring
her kettle and muttering incantations. She read such amazing
things in the extended palms that the Truth Seekers' eyes began
to pop out of their heads. The grinning, toothless old hag
(Nyoda had blackened all her teeth but one), was so realistic
that they had to look closely to make sure that it was their
beloved friend and not a real witch.

Near by Sahwah and Hinpoha were conducting a "Turkish Bath" for
the entertainment of the girls who were through having their
fortunes told. They had built a shelter of ponchos and had a fire
going. They heated small stones red hot and then plunged them
into a pail of water. The resulting steam heated the tiny
chamber and threw the patients into a dripping perspiration,
which limbered up their muscles, which were stiff from paddling.
They took the "Turkish Bath" in thei